Anger

I have changed in many ways since Bob died. Some good. Some not so much. But every part of me has undergone some sort of transformation.

The one I’m noticing today is that now when I’m hurt, instead of being sad, I get angry. I mean throat-punchy, stabby, dark and twisty hate the world kind of anger.

I want to rage. I want to lash out and make people feel the hurt I feel. I want to burn the world down. I used to be scared of this feeling. I used to think there was something wrong with me. Now I know better.

Now I know that Anger is Sad’s bodyguard. I’ve learned that anger is better than the helplessness it’s trying to prevent me from feeling. I’ve learned that anger can spur me to action when sadness would prevent me from action.

I am ANGRY. I’m angry that my husband is dead. I’m angry that he chose this. I’m angry that he chose this for those of us left behind. I’m angry that my family failed me and that I’ve had to do so much of this alone. I’m angry that people still think it’s okay to treat me like they deserve my love without giving any in return. I’m angry that people I trusted and loved turned out to be untrustworthy. I’m angry that this still hurts so much .

I talk about what I’m grateful for often. I say thank you and I put on my happy face so people can be comfortable but I’m angry. I’m hurt and I’m angry often. I’m angry that I don’t have to soft place to land when I need to take my armor off and rest. I’m angry that my brain is so broken from this .

Tonight, I’m feeling my anger. It’s running down my face in burning hot tears. It’s coming out as loud sobs as I sit in the bottom of the shower and hold myself. It’s coming out as needing so badly to have someone hold me and comfort me but instead I am shaking with the anger and pain.

Widowhood is BULLSHIT

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